


Love Soothes

by zeri



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen, POV Second Person, Platonic Love, Sickness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-08
Updated: 2015-01-08
Packaged: 2018-03-06 16:14:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3140669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeri/pseuds/zeri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cole meets you at the door to the main hall, opening it while you're still convincing yourself that you're capable of reaching up and turned the door handle. "Illness," he says, still unable to grasp normal greetings, "lingering, lurking, lying in every corner of your body. You should be resting, but you were coming to see me."</p>
<p>"Yes."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Soothes

**Author's Note:**

> I am sick and feel awful, so I wrote a story about the Inquisitor being sick and feeling awful. I headcanoned my Inquisitor as having a very deep, platonic love for Cole, but I left the gender and race out of this fic so people can substitute their own.

You feel miserably sick and unaccountably restless. Every movement aches like an old wound, like someone's puts stakes of wood through every point where your body turns and told you that these are your new hinges, but you can't stomach the thought of staying in bed a moment longer. The world outside your blankets is colder than the temperature actually warrants, but you force your body out of bed and over to your closet. You're used to forcing your body to do things, but somehow the fact that it's less painful than dragging yourself back to camp with an array of wounds makes it even harder to do. Still, you pull out a winter coat, one Dorian gave you that he swore is fashionable in the Imperium, but more importantly, is spelled to keep you warm. 

Securely wrapped and the coat's hood over your head, your shivering lessens again, your teeth chatter only when you stop clenching them. The walk from your bedroom, down the stairs, and towards Skyhold proper seems eternal. Your clothing drags against your skin at every movement, a feeling that can only be described as _wrong_ , but after every step you tell yourself that you can make at least one more. 

Cole meets you at the door to the main hall, opening it while you're still convincing yourself that you're capable of reaching up and turned the door handle. "Illness," he says, still unable to grasp normal greetings, "lingering, lurking, lying in every corner of your body. You should be resting, but you were coming to see me."

"Yes." Seeing Cole is like a balm for your soul. Every time you're able to speak plainly to him when you might have prevaricated with someone else makes your heart warm. "Help me back upstairs?"

"Yes." Cole offers his arm, letting you lean on him and control the points of contact. Slowly, slowly, your body still aching and infected but your heart a little lighter, you make your way back to your room. 

He pulls away your quilts to let you climb back into bed, then pulls them back over you all at once, just the way you prefer. "You're aching, awful in your own skin, restless but unable to roam. I don't know what to do to help."

You close your eyes. You're tired, but you don't think you can manage to sleep. Still, it's nice to rest your eyes. "You're helping by being here."

"I know that, I can feel it in your thoughts, but I don't understand why." You wish silently that he would put his hand on your forehead, and he does. It's cool and somehow feels wonderful, despite the fact that the rest of your body feels like it's freezing. You try not to take advantage too often, but you're sick and Cole wouldn't actually do anything he didn't want to. "Nobody can force me to do anything against my will," he tells you, and you feel better for hearing him say it out loud.

"It's because you're my friend, and I love you." You love several of your companions: Dorian, because he's wonderful and he adores you in return; Josephine, who can cut a noble with her tongue but always takes the time to be kind to you; Varric, who always makes you laugh and never expects more from you than you can actually achieve. But you think you might love Cole best of all, Cole who never expects your regard and always has a different outlook on whatever problem you've brought before him, who quietly helps people with no thought of reward and smiles at you when you assist him at helping someone in the field. So long as there's not an immediate problem before him, he has a steady patience that you've never encountered in anyone else. 

"I don't know if I know how to love," he tells you.

"It'd be nice if you loved me too, but I don't need you to."

"We _are_ friends, though," he confirms, stroking your forehead carefully. "Caring in concert, you help me help you help me. Friends help each other."

"Right." Cole's touch on your forehead helps more than you might have thought, and you find yourself drifting off to sleep. When you wake hours later, the world outside gone dark and still, he is still standing over you, keeping watch.


End file.
